


Suddenly I'm Overcome (Dissolving like the Setting Sun)

by orphan_account



Category: One Direction (Band)
Genre: 69 (Sex Position), Aftercare, Anal Fingering, Anal Sex, Barebacking, Blow Jobs, Body Worship, Bottom Harry, Butt Plugs, Come play, Coming Untouched, Dirty Talk, Doggy Style, Established Relationship, Exhibitionism, Fluff, Light Dom/sub, M/M, Praise Kink, Rimming, Smut, Top Louis, Touring
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-05-23
Updated: 2016-05-23
Packaged: 2018-06-10 07:44:49
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 8,209
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6946195
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/orphan_account
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p><i>Harry’s so good, the best boy. Always apologizing for taking more than he’s told even when he deserves the entire world all wrapped up in a neat little bow. Louis’ going to give it to him, going to work the rest of his entire life to gather up everything good in the world and hand it over to Harry. For now though, this will just have to do.</i><br/> <br/>Or the one where Harry's been a little homesick and on edge towards the end of the North American leg of their OTRA tour, so Louis decides to rile him up a bit - and that just might entail getting a plug inside of Harry and sending him out on stage</p>
            </blockquote>





	Suddenly I'm Overcome (Dissolving like the Setting Sun)

**Author's Note:**

  * For [armadilo](https://archiveofourown.org/users/armadilo/gifts).



> Hi guys! I'm so happy that I got a chance to be a pinch hitter for this exchange since I missed the sign ups. Just some things to keep in mind before you start reading:
> 
> 1\. I do not own One Direction, nor do I own anything related to their band/business/image rights - this is all purely fiction and is _not_ meant to be distributed outside of the fandom/AO3  
>  2\. In this fic, Harry and Louis are in an established relationship and have been for upwards of 5 years; therefore the kinks and sexual acts that take place within these scenes have been discussed and negotiated outside of the scope of this fic. Just be aware that health testing, boundaries, and safety protocol have all been discussed between these characters but are simply not included for the sake of time.  
> 3\. If you have any questions or concerns about the tags feel free to scroll down without reading to ask in the comments, I will try my best to get back to you as soon as I can to ensure you're comfortable reading this particular fic.  
> 4\. Most of the tags I added were mostly for triggering purposes, I would consider this fic to be pretty mild in terms of BDSM and exhibitionism but included those just to be safe. (*mild spoiler*) It's basically just Harry calling Louis "sir" and a bit of dirty talk about exhibitionism.
> 
> Okay that's about it ! Here's the prompt I was assigned if anyone is curious:
> 
> "Louis convinces Harry to wear a butt plug while on stage during their first tour- what happens during the performance and the aftermath?"
> 
> Hope you enjoy Armadilo!

Louis’ not trying to be rude. He’s not trying to be rude, but he can’t really focus on the conversation Helene’s trying to have with him without looking over her shoulder at Harry. She’s been trying to tell him about Meghan Trainor cancelling some of her shows and something else about vocal surgery and technique, at least that’s all that Louis’ been able to retain. He can see Harry on the other side of the make-shift tour dining room, sitting on a ratty old couch and practically blowing steam out of his ears.

He’s been acting off lately, Louis’ noticed. They’ve been touring in North America for about two months now - flying back and forth between the States and Canada every handful of days. He thinks it’s finally starting to take a toll on Harry, has him on edge like there’s itch beneath his skin that he just can’t seem to scratch.

It didn’t make it any better that Robin’s cousin had her baby two weeks before her due date. Harry was so excited that their last show in Boston was just a few days before the day they expected baby Lea to be born. He figured they would have just enough time to fly back over to Europe for the last leg of their _On the Road Again_ tour to be there when the baby was delivered. But her water broke when the boys were in Ottawa and Louis’ been watching Harry unravel bit by bit over the past week and a half. 

He knows that it’s not just about missing the birth, it’s about missing Anne and Robin and their home back in London and having something familiar that isn’t just each other. But that doesn’t mean missing the birth wasn’t the catalyst - the spark that set off a pulse of electricity beneath Harry’s skin that seems to have left him vibrating like a livewire.

And Louis is afraid Lux is about to make him blow.

She’s been running around on the small rug in front of the couch for the past half an hour, singing the theme song to some children’s show that Lou always throws her in front of when she’s doing the boys’ hair. Lottie gave up on Lux fifteen minutes ago, widening her eyes in Louis’ direction and letting the rest of the room know she was heading over to one of the empty dressing rooms to Skype with Tommy. 

Which left Lux with Harry to play with. And normally that would be Lux’s lucky day - patient, kind, loving Harry to tickle her on the floor and press kisses all over her giggling face while singing along to her silly cartoon songs. Unfortunately Louis can tell she’s testing his patience, his head leaned back against the back of the couch as he presses his eyes shut tightly and licks his lips. His smile is tight lipped and tense, his shoulders straining from crossing his arms in front of his body.

Helene’s still chatting to Louis when it happens. Lux is crawling on the back of the couch, her tiny fingers tugging at Harry’s curls while she begs him to let her braid them.

“Please, ‘Arry?” Lux says, sitting on the back of the couch with her little legs on either side of Harry’s neck. “It looked so pretty when mummy did it last!”

“Not today Luxie,” Harry sighs.

“Please, please, please!” Lux sings sweetly, swinging her feet on either side of his face and lifting some strands of his hair up in the air. “You looked like _such_ a princess last time! I want to help you look like a princess!”

Harry’s hand comes up to rub at the line of tension that’s formed between his brows, his chest lifting as he exhales another loud sigh. “I’m taking a little nap Luxie, why don’t you go see if Sophia will let you braid her hair, hmm?”

Louis cringes when Lux speaks next, a little sparkle of mischief in her eyes as she continues to pry at his curls with her tiny fingers.

“‘Arry that’s not the same! I want to braid _your_ hair, everyone on the field would get to see how pretty it is and I _promise_ I’ve been practicing just like mummy showed me and…”

“Lux, enough, I said not today!” Harry says, standing up suddenly and cutting her off. Louis’ off his feet before Harry’s even stood up fully - can see Lux start to wobble on the back of the couch from how much force Harry stood up with. She topples over onto the cushions luckily, but Louis can see it in her eyes that she’s more hurt from Harry raising his voice at her - not used to him being anything less than soothing and playful. Her bottom lip starts to wobble and she’s in full blown tears before Louis even has a hand on Harry’s lower back.

The tension in Harry’s face turns into something else entirely when he hears her crying, a cross between guilt and regret and fatigue. Lou is over at Lux’s side in a instant, sparing Harry any disapproving looks but glaring over at Louis. He’s been getting that look a lot the past week or two - from the boys and the rest of the crew and Lottie too - that look that says _aren’t you going to do something about that? He’s an absolute pain in the arse lately and you’re the only one who can do anything about it._

“Haz, let’s go back to our room for a little before the show, c’mon,” Louis says, a firm hand leading Harry away from a crying Lux and an equally as tense crew.

There’s a quietness between the two of them while they make their way through the stadium corridors, the only noises are the faint echo of Harry’s wooden heels on the concrete and the far away chattering of the stadium’s crew speaking through walkie-talkies. Louis leaves his palm pressed against the small of Harry’s back though, finds an easy rhythm for his thumb to pet at the soft fabric of his knit shirt. 

Once they’re back in their dressing room Harry heads straight over to their couch and curls up on himself, lets his eyes fall shut and sighs into the blanket folded over the arm. Louis makes his way over to the mini-fridge in the corner of the room and pokes around, settles on grabbing two Fiji waters with one hand, his other hand kneading at the tension in the back of his neck.

He looks over at Harry and he doesn’t know what to do. Well he _does_ know what to do, but he wasn’t prepared for it. It’s been ages since he’s been able to take the edge off Harry the way that he likes, ages since they’ve had more than a handful of days off. Their last proper break was before June and it’s September now, and sure Louis’ tied him up and put his mouth all over Harry’s body and worshiped him for entire nights since June, but it hasn’t been like this.

Harry hasn’t needed it like this.

But it is their last show before heading back to Europe for a proper break, nearly a full two weeks off of touring with barely enough promo to even be considered a commitment. And Louis knows that if he leaves Harry as is he’s going to go out on stage distracted by Lux, with his head all cloudy and he’ll have to overdo his Harry Styles™ routine. And Louis just isn’t sure he can stand to watch Harry spend another night on stage putting thousands of people before himself.

So he’ll have to put Harry first.

“Here baby, drink this,” Louis says, handing a cold bottle of water over to Harry and scooting beside him on the couch.

“Thanks,” Harry says, but it comes out a whisper and he just leaves the closed bottle in the crook between his tummy and his thighs where he’s all curled up into a ball.

“Are you alright, darling? You know Lux won’t be cross with you for long, she was just a bit stroppy because she wasn’t milking you for all the kindness you’re worth like always.”

“M’Alright. Just a bit on edge, you know? Feel like I’m stuck in my head, like a guitar string just ready to snap,” Harry mumbles. He wiggles his toes against Louis’ thigh before adding, “And not in the good way.”

Louis’ pulse stutters at that, and that’s all it takes for him to decide that playing a little before going on stage is the best way to handle tonight. Icona Pop hasn’t been on stage for long, he’s sure, and they have Augustana opening tonight as well. Plenty of time to wind Harry up in the good way if that’s what his boy wants.

“You want me to wind you up in the good way? That what this is, then?” Louis says, the tone of his voice dropping a bit. Harry shuffles on the couch - squirms around until he’s sitting up right, his right hand playing with the rings on his left. Louis watches as he spins the jagged metal on his left finger over and over again around his knuckle.

Louis lifts Harry’s chin with his right hand, looks him in the eye and repeats his question, “That what this is, then?” Harry’s eyes drop their hold with his, his head bowing and nodding in agreement ever so slightly.

“Can’t believe you didn’t want to be a pretty princess for Lux,” Louis says, his hand coming up to tangle in the mess of curls in Harry’s hair. “Think you’re too good to be a princess? Hmm?” Louis questions, tugging a fistful of his hair so that their eyes are locked again.

“No, Lou, just tired,” Harry responds, his hands still fidgeting in his lap while he tries to adjust himself without Louis noticing. He’s squirming, still on edge, but Louis can tell that it’s turning into a different kind of tension now.

He presses a gentle kiss to the corner of Harry’s mouth and says,“I know, darling, it’s been such a long tour hasn’t it?” He rubs the pad of his thumb against his boy’s jawline, stopping when he gets near Harry’s mouth to pull at his lower lip with his finger. “But you can still be good, right, princess?”

Harry’s breath hitches, whatever little resolve he had left finally crumbling. His eyes slip shut while he draws in a shaky breath through his nose, “Yes, Lou.”

“Always wanna be good, darling, don’t you? Want to make your parents proud and make Lux giggle and send those hundreds of thousands of people outside waiting for us into tears with how you perform for them, hmm?”

“You most,” Harry murmurs, finally turning his body into Louis’ and dropping his head onto his shoulder. “You most.”

“What’s that, princess?” Louis teases, dropping his head to the right so that his face is pressed right against Harry’s where he’s burrowed into Louis’ neck.

“You most, want to be good for you the most, please, Lou,” Harry says, pulling back from his neck, eyes a bit glassy and desperate. He brings the heel of his hand down to where his cock is straining in his trousers, “Want you to touch me, please?”

“Course I’m gonna touch you baby, gonna make you feel so good,” Louis says, motioning for Harry to lift his arms so he can get him out of his top. He pets at Harry’s thighs, a silent request for him to finish undressing. Once Harry is left in nothing but his pants, Louis adds “Gonna get you on edge in the good way.”

Harry whines, as if he knows that this isn’t going to play out exactly how he wants it. But that doesn’t matter, Louis knows. It may not play out exactly how he wants it to but it will play out exactly how _Louis_ wants it to, and that’s always enough for his boy.

Louis throws his right leg over Harry’s legs so that he’s sitting on his lap, face to face. Harry’s hand comes up to play with the hem of Louis’ shirt, big pleading eyes finding Louis’. He sticks his lower lip out a bit in a pout, toying with the soft fabric at Louis’ waist.

“Fine, you can take it off, but _just_ the shirt,” Louis caves, lifting his arms up and waiting for Harry to undress him. Harry scurries to pull the fabric up over his torso, his lips coming to press kisses to Louis’ chest before the shirt is even tossed from the couch.

“Thought you wanted to be good?” Louis says, even though he doesn’t want to stop him from pressing gentle kisses all over his body. But this is about Harry and about winding him up. Louis needs to keep himself focused, pay more attention to the bare skin in front of him just waiting to be marked and less attention to the constant _want_ for pressure against his own cock.

“ I do, wanna be good, I swear,” Harry says sitting back against the couch and clenching his hands into fists.

Louis can feel Harry where he’s hot and hard against his crotch, even through his own trousers. He rolls his hips a bit while he leans forward to kiss Harry’s bare skin, a low moan pulling from deep in Harry’s chest. “Always so good for me, baby, aren’t you?”

Louis gets off of Harry’s lap and settles on his knees on the floor, spreads Harry’s long long legs apart and settles in between the crook of his thighs. He can see where Harry’s abdomen muscles are straining, a last attempt at controlling himself - keeping himself pressed against the sweat sticky leather upholstery of the couch.

The thing about Harry when he gets like this is that he wants to be good, wants to do exactly as he’s told and he wants to enjoy it. But it takes him a little longer to turn it all off, to stop listening to that part of his mind that’s telling him to fuck up into Louis’ mouth or flip them over so he’s on top and can press Louis’ small, lithe body into the floor. And Louis can see that. Can see his hands hesitate over the swell of Louis’ arse when he’s supposed to be good, can see the torment in his eyes when he tells himself not to touch - but to look, to feel, to be good.

And as much as Louis wants Harry to show him what a good boy he can be - how hard he can work to shut that part of his mind off and give all of his trust over to Louis - he wants to be good for Harry right now, wants to make it good for him.

“Do you want me to touch you, princess? Think you deserve my hands?” Louis asks while his hands come up to the waistband of Harry’s pants to tug at them. “My mouth?

Harry gasps when the head of his cock is exposed to the cool air of the dressing room, but Louis simply snaps the band against where he lays curved and red against his tummy. “Want whatever you want, Lou, please.”

“Hmm, think I want to taste you,” Louis answers, fingers still hooked under his pants - soft knuckles grazing against Harry’s quivering skin. He lowers his head to Harry’s thighs and starts to suck a mark into the milky white skin right below where his briefs stop.

When he feels Harry start to shuffle against the couch, fucking his hips up a little to guide Louis’ mouth up further, he pulls off and soothes the subtle purple redness he caused with his mouth. He trails his tongue ever so lightly up Harry’s inner thigh, over his briefs, to mouth wetly at his cock before pulling the fabric off entirely.

Harry whimpers then, stuttering out a “please, Lou, want your mouth,” while his thumb reaches out to touch at Louis’ spit-wet lips. Louis is quicker than he is though, catches the tip of Harry’s thumb with his teeth and bites down, looks up at Harry from beneath his eyelashes.

Harry inhales sharply through his nose when Louis’ teeth pierce his skin, pulls his hand away quickly in shame. 

“Well, darling, I was going to give you my mouth but I’m not so sure that greedy boys deserve rewards,” Louis says, reaching for the ice cold water bottle that rolled to the other cushion. “What do you think?”

Before Harry can respond Louis presses the cold surface of the bottle to the inside of Harry’s thighs right beside where his cock and balls lay. Louis feels his own cock twitch when the muscles in Harry’s thighs flex and strain, his legs shaking while his skin gets used to the cold plastic.

He pulls the water bottle back while Harry’s murmuring out his apologies - _Sorry Lou, I mean it, Sorry, I’ll take whatever you’ll give me, Please Lou._ He places the chilled side against the warm skin on Harry’s other thigh, and at the same time, lowers his head to lick at the cold wet trail of condensation the bottle left behind.

Louis caves after a few minutes of the quiet chanting of _please, please, please_ that he’s almost sure Harry’s not aware he’s doing. He tosses the bottle onto the floor and hears it roll away as he finally takes Harry’s hard cock into his hand, brings it the parting of his wet lips and gives it a gentle kiss.

Harry throws his arm over his mouth and Louis knows that he’s biting at the soft skin by the inside of his elbow. Louis licks a flat stripe on the head of Harry’s cock, right where he’s dripping with precome, to get him wet. Harry’s been hard for so long now that Louis knows he won’t last long, keeps that thought at the front of his mind while he’s taking him deep into his mouth. 

Louis can feel Harry forcing himself to keep his hips down on the couch when his cock bumps into the back of Louis’ throat. His jaw starts to ache once he’s started to suck him, a gentle sort of reminder of just how _big_ Harry’s cock is, fat and heavy on his tongue. 

He pulls off for a quick second to breathe but takes him back down within a few breaths, wanting to keep Harry right on the edge of too much. It’s getting messy now, the spit that Louis formed mixing with how incredibly wet Harry gets when he’s desperate for it. He has a rhythm going, bobbing up and down on Harry’s cock at a relentless pace, pulling back now and again to mouth hotly into the crook of Harry’s groin.

Louis can tell Harry’s going to come soon, can feel the way he’s losing control of his movements, fucking into Louis’ mouth more than he would if he was aware of it. He brings a hand up to roll slow circles over his balls with the pad of his fingers.

And that’s all it takes for Harry’s thighs to jerk, his cock twitching in Louis’ mouth and a panicked slur of, “Gonna come, gonna come, Lou, please.”

Louis pulls off entirely, lets Harry’s stiff cock slip out of his wet mouth. Harry doesn’t even fall back against his own belly, so hard that it almost looks painful - how his cock sticks straight out jerking a bit like it might just come without another touch.

“God, Lou, _please_ ,” Harry says, his right hand hovering over his erection like he’s physically willing himself not to touch it, hips still rocking forward ever so slightly. “Just wanna come, been so good, just wanna come.”

Louis stands up, wipes at his wet lips with the back of hand and says, “Don’t worry darling, you’ll come when I say so and it’s gonna be so good, gonna make you feel so good, yeah? I want you to spread that blanket out over the couch okay? Can you do that while I go grab some things for us?”

Harry nods, shaking himself out of the simple fog that's clouded his head and gets to work on Louis’ instructions. He stumbles a bit over his own two feet and Louis isn’t sure if he’s already foggier than he thought or if he’s just... _Harry_.

“What’s your colour, princess?” Louis asks, stepping closer to Harry where he stands in front of the couch and touching his jaw lightly to ground him. 

Harry’s eyes slip shut at Louis’ gentle touch, a small smile pulling at the right corner of his mouth, “Green.”

By the time Louis gets back with a handful of things that they’ll need, Harry has already spread the blanket over the leather and is waiting patiently by the side of the couch with his hands clasped behind his back. His cock is still stiff and red, bobbing awkwardly in front of his body. And Louis can tell in the way that Harry’s eyelids are fluttering, his chest hiccuping a bit in excitement, that Harry is still wound up.

“Want you on your hands and knees, darling, elbows up on the back of the couch, yeah?” Louis instructs, placing his things on the floor by the couch while Harry scrambles to comply.

His boy looks gorgeous, kneeling on the couch bent over with his pert little bum in the air - hard cock hanging full and heavy in between his legs. Harry’s arching his back for Louis, being so good as to not fuck forward so that the head of his cock bumps into the couch. Louis knows that it would feel good, knows Harry’s so wet that he could rut up against the leather - get it smooth enough for a nice glide. But his boy’s so good that he’s more focused on looking pretty for Louis, doing what he’s told.

“Perfect, darling, look so lovely for me,” Louis says, settling back down on his knees in front of the couch and pulling Harry’s bum down a bit so that he doesn’t have to strain too much to get his mouth on him. “Such a pretty little hole.”

Louis spreads his cheeks slowly, blows a light stream of warm air at Harry’s damp skin. He looks so beautiful like this - aching and squirming - staying hard for so long just because Louis wants him to. He decides to relieve some of the pressure Harry must be feeling, leans forward to lick a flat wet stripe right over his hole. 

He can hear the leather crackling where Harry is rolling his face into the back of the couch, his moans getting lost into the cushions. Louis licks him again, this time starting down behind his balls, getting enough spit going to keep him wet as he mouths his way back up to his pretty pink hole.

“Lou, please,” Harry whines, “ _in_ me, please.”

“Princess, when good boys ask for something they ask politely,” Louis chastises, hand coming up from where it was spreading Harry open to land a loud _smack_ on his right cheek.

“Fuck, sir, please,” Harry tries again, clearly not sure if he wants to hump forward into the leather back of the couch or push his arse further into Louis’ palms.

Louis smiles, slips his hand between Harry’s legs to rub lightly at the head of his cock where his dripping with it. He pulls his hand back, the pads of his fingers wet with Harry’s precome and spreads it around his rim. “Since you asked so nicely, baby.”

Louis gets his mouth back on Harry then, slips his tongue into the tight ring of muscle. Harry’s beyond tight, hasn’t been fucked since two days ago, so Louis reaches blindly around for the bottle of lube he brought over earlier.

Once he’s warmed up one wet finger, he slides it into Harry’s hole. He’s immediately rewarded with Harry’s sounds, a choked moan muffled into the leather. “Want to hear you, darling, you’re being so good staying so quiet. But I wanna hear how good you feel. I’m making you feel good, yeah?”

Before Harry can respond Louis gets his mouth back on his hole, nibbles at the slippery skin around his finger, pushing his tongue in alongside it periodically. Harry’s babbling now, an incoherent string of _yes, sir; please, sir; make me feel so hot, sir;_ and then….

“Fuck, sir, gonna come sir, thank you, thank you, thank you.”

“Don’t thank me yet, darling.” And then Harry’s empty, cock drooling onto the blanket he’s kneeling on. Nothing filling him up no matter how far he pushes back.

Louis waits, stays on his knees quietly behind Harry until he sees his muscles relax a bit, his breathing slow down. He waits and listens to the steady stream of begging falling from Harry’s pretty mouth.

And then he stuffs him full of two fingers and his tongue with no warning, revels in the way that his thighs shake, in the way that his back arches and his head lifts up from the back of the couch.

“Thank you, sir, yes,” Harry slurs, left hand coming back to spread himself open impossibly more, begging for Louis to feed him full of anything and everything.

Louis’ face is wet with lube and spit, and he pulls his fingers out of his hole to hold Harry open. His other hand moves down to his trousers to unzip them and get his own cock out. Harry is pushing back against his face and he can’t even scold him, can’t even blame him for wanting his tongue in deeper.

He pulls off for a moment to and says, “Want you to play with your cock, princess, need you to tell me when you’re going to come, okay?” Harry’s right hand immediately fists at his own length, pulls gently to the rhythm of Louis’ tongue fucking into the warm heat of his hole.

Louis’ hand is working twice as quickly over his own cock, aching from not having been touched at all since they started. Harry’s muscles start to tense, his hole clenching greedily on Louis’ tongue every time he fucks it back in, like he’s trying to pull it back in deeper - keep it there forever.

“Yes, yes, yes, sir,” Harry yells, “gonna come, please, Lou, please, fuck your tongue is…”

Louis pulls his face away, stands up and gets a hand on Harry’s lower back as he works his fist over his own cock. He wanks himself to Harry’s broken cries, pleading for him to fill him back up, to let him _come_ , damn it. All it takes is less than a minute for Louis to come, balls tightening up until he’s shooting wet, warm ropes of come right onto Harry’s hole.

He watches it drip down Harry’s thighs for a moment, mind fuck-heavy and slow. Harry’s whining brings him back down and he settles back onto the matter at hand.

“Get on your back,” Louis says, tone serious and deep as he slaps at Harry’s arse. He follows the instruction immediately, shifting around uncomfortably on the damp blanket and drawing his knees up to expose himself to Louis. His eyes are wet with tears and pleading for release and Louis wants to keep him like this forever, wrecked and gorgeous and entirely Louis’.

He grabs the plug off the floor where he stashed it earlier and settles in between Harry’s thighs - fucks his come into his hole and stretches him with two fingers. He drizzles a bit more lube onto his third and fourth finger and slowly works his boy open for the plug.

To be honest, it’s quite difficult to not just finger fuck Harry as hard as he possibly can and let him come. He’s chanting incessantly at Louis, a never ending loop of _sir_ and _come_ and _please_. But Louis focuses on the way that his fucked open hole is pulling his fingers in and can’t help but want to see it stuffed full of their plug.

Finally he reaches for the simple metal plug and dribbles a little more lube on it, nuzzling it against where Harry’s hole is clenching against nothing. He pushes the smaller end against his entrance until it pops inside, Harry’s body reeling it in welcomingly. Out of the corner of his eye, Louis sees Harry reaching for his cock and slaps his hand away, lays a light kiss to his hole right where it meets the metal.

“Twenty minutes till stage time, lads,” comes Niall’s voice from outside the dressing room door.

“Thanks mate, be out in a bit,” Louis shouts back, sitting up and straightening himself out, a teasing look in his eyes when they meet Harry’s.

“ _No, no, no,_ can’t Lou,” Harry says immediately. “Can’t go out like this, not like _this_ ,” he repeats, eyes raking down his own body and stopping at his hard cock.

“Hmm, I quite wish you could go out like this all the time,” Louis says, his finger coming to trace the inside of Harry’s thigh lightly. He smirks when Harry’s entire leg shakes.

“Come on, love, let’s get you presentable.”

* * * * * 

Louis’ fairly certain Harry’s going to break every bone in his hand if the lock on their hotel door doesn’t turn green in the next three seconds. He swipes the key card through the slot one more time and hears the little _click_ of the heavy door unlocking before pushing inside, Harry nearly attached to his back and breathing heavily into his neck.

“Think I’m gonna take a quick shower, love,” Louis says, freeing his hand from Harry’s and heading towards the lavish bathroom across the suite. “Would you like to join? Or do you wanna strip the bed of the sheets and get everything all set up, hmm?”

He watches Harry mull it over, roll the possible scenarios over in his head. He must know that Louis isn’t going to give into him quite yet, even if he does get him naked and wet and panting in the gorgeous glass shower in the next room, because he says, “Wanna get everything ready, sir.”

“Such a helpful boy,” Louis praises, leans forward to brush some of Harry’s curls off of his sweaty forehead to place a kiss to the warm skin there. “Aren’t you, darling?” Harry just hums at that, steadies himself with a deep breath and heads over to the bed to pull the plush duvet back. 

Louis makes quick work of cleaning himself up in the shower, his cock fattening up between his thighs when he thinks about how beautiful Harry was on stage all night. All plugged up with Louis’ come, he floated along the stage in a trance, blowing kisses to fans and singing in such a sweet tone. Louis’ sure he even saw Harry go cross-eyed at one point trying to look at some bubbles a few fans were blowing onto the stage.

He didn’t think that Harry was wound up that tightly, didn’t know he would float around like there were helium balloons tied to his ankles. Louis even pulled him off stage at one point with a stern look and a nod towards backstage - dragged him into their dressing room under the guise of a pee break, and spanked him a bit to rile him back up.

After that Harry was frantic, gorgeous body grinding against his mic stand while they performed. Louis was straining in his trousers nearly as hard as Harry was by the end of the show, turned on and desperate for it after watching Harry rub his hands all over his own body to the beat of the songs that they wrote for one another.

Louis turns the water off, blinks through the steam and towels himself off quickly before going to check on Harry. When he makes it back into the bedroom of their suite Harry is lying on the stripped down bed wanking himself gently.

“Don’t remember telling you to touch.”

Harry jumps - startled by the sound of Louis’ voice - eyes widening and his hand falling back to the white fitted sheet stretched over the mattress. “Sorry, sir.”

Harry’s so good, the best boy. Always apologizing for taking more than he’s told even when he deserves the entire world all wrapped up in a neat little bow. Louis’ going to give it to him, going to work the rest of his entire life to gather up everything good in the world and hand it over to Harry. For now though, this will just have to do.

“Let’s get you on your belly, yeah?” Louis says, kneeling on the bed and crawling towards where Harry lays propped up against the pillows. He pulls a towel from atop the nightstand that Harry brought over and lays it down for him to roll over onto. Harry wiggles his bum a bit once he’s settled, humming happily into the mattress.

Louis slaps at his arse playfully, mindful of where it’s still a bit red and tender from his spanking earlier. Harry stills at the swat regardless, inhales sharply when Louis’ hands start kneading at the flesh, pulling his cheeks apart just enough to see the silver of the plug.

“What’s your colour, princess?” Louis asks, keeping his hands still on the swell of Harry’s arse so that he can gather his thoughts enough to respond.

“Green, swear, so so green,” Harry says, arching his back and pushing his arse into Louis’ palms to show how ready he is, how willing.

Louis keeps him spread open, shifts the plug a little with one of his thumbs right as he says, “Good boy, been so patient for me, spent all night on stage all plugged up just for me, didn’t you?”

“Yeah - fuck - just for you,” Harry squeaks when Louis tugs at the plug, dribbles more lube onto the exposed metal and pushes it back inside to get his hole nice and wet where it’s all stuffed full. His rim is puffy and red, but it’s still pulling the plug back inside every time Louis nudges it out even the slightest bit. 

“Love having it inside you don’t you? Love knowing that any of those fans could have seen how hard you were, how desperate you were for me?” Louis taunts, his voice low and rough - assertive where it used to be sweet. “Such a slut for it, yeah?”

Harry lifts his face up off of the mattress and says, “For you.. just wanted to be good - fuck - just want to be good.” 

“Wanna keep this in?” Louis punctuates his question by twisting the plug in deeper, pressing up against Harry’s spot and grinning when Harry stutters out a shaky breath. “Or do you want my fingers, princess?”

“Fingers, sir,” Harry responds, and Louis can tell that he’s willing himself to relax enough to let the plug slide out so that he can be stuffed full of something better. Louis fucks the plug back in a few more times, twists it subtly before he draws it out of the tight heat of Harry’s body and discards it beside the bed.

Louis crawls up his body, keeps Harry’s bare skin just beneath his own so that he can feel the warmth radiating off of him. He pushes Harry’s hair off to the side to expose his neck, presses his wet lips to the skin there and mouths at it. He drags his lips over to one of Harry’s ears, licks lightly at the lobe and pierces the skin with his teeth to draw a moan out of the body beneath him. 

When he’s satisfied by the rapid pulse in Harry’s throat he taps at his hip and tells him to roll over, gets them face to face so that he can snog him a bit. Harry’s always been so responsive to his mouth, muscles lax and welcoming while he lets Louis manipulate the kiss anyway he likes. It’s always been like this, 16 year old Harry didn’t know how he liked to be kissed before Louis - didn’t know if he liked it tight lipped and firm or wet and languid. Louis was able to read him though, feel the way that his hips knock forward when Louis pulls at Harry’s lower lip with his teeth, the way he whines low in the back of his throat when Louis forces Harry’s tongue to chase after his own. 

Harry gets overwhelmed easily when he’s kissed, never mind when he’s on the verge of slipping under - of losing himself completely to Louis’ hands and his mouth and his trust. He loses his breath easily, forgets to take a big enough gulp of air when Louis pulls back to give him a moment. That’s why Harry’s head has fallen back onto the pillow right now, neck exposed for Louis to suck at, nibbling on the thin skin stretched over his sweat glistened clavicles.

“Taste so sweet darling, wish I could keep my mouth on you all the time,” Louis praises. Harry whines in agreement, curls tangling into tiny knots where he’s rolling his neck back and forth against the pillows in pleasure. 

Louis kisses his way back up Harry’s chest once he’s given him enough time to catch his breath, drags his tongue along the seam of Harry’s mouth to feel him writhing beneath him. “Wish you could keep your mouth on me all the time, too.”

Louis keeps talking, “Love how they feel against my own lips… _love_ when you use them on my nipples.” Louis punctuates the next few sentences with tiny bites to Harry’s spit slick lips. “Can barely think straight when they’re wrapped around my cock, princess. Think you could do that for me? Show me how good your mouth is? How much you love getting me ready for your perfect hole with your perfect mouth?”

Harry wets his own lips, draws his lower lip into his mouth and bites down with desire. His eyes are lustful when he replies, says, “Please, sir, can I please?”

Before Louis even answers Harry’s shuffling forward, rolling them over so that he can get his mouth on Louis’ groin. Harry’s tonguing at his abdomen when Louis responds, “Thought you said you wanted my fingers, though? Don’t you want your reward for being so pretty on stage, darling?”

He can see the torment in Harry’s eyes, can see his mouth still watering for Louis’ cock even when he remembers how terribly empty he is after being plugged up and hard for so long. Louis can tell how far under Harry’s slipping by the way his eyes are darting back and forth between Louis’ cock and his hands, chest rising and falling rapidly but unable to make a decision.

Louis takes pity on him then, wiggles out from beneath his body where Harry’s arms are caged around Louis’ hips, Harry’s body held up by his biceps. He can see Harry panic, most likely afraid that he didn’t answer Louis’ question in time and that he lost his shot at getting Louis’ cock or his fingers. But tonight was never about punishing Harry, it was always going to be about unraveling him.

“Gonna let you have your reward and my cock, how’s that, baby?” Louis says, crawling back besides Harry’s body so that his cock is hanging in front of Harry’s face while his own face is nestled beside Harry’s groin.

“Yes, sir, thank you, thank y...,” Harry’s sentence is cut short when he takes Louis down as far as he can straight away. Louis’ hips stutter forward when his cock is met with the warm, wet heat of Harry’s mouth. His cock is already full and hard, aching from hours without release and he can’t even imagine how Harry feels. Lovely, sweet Harry who’s mouthing wetly at Louis’ cock, warm breath heating up his skin as Harry pants into his groin.

Louis focuses on Harry, let’s his eyes roll back now and again when Harry takes him all the way to the back of his throat, but works on getting four fingers into his boy. He’s pliant and relaxed beside him, his hole stretched and welcoming, taking whatever Louis has to offer. 

Harry’s cock is red and angry, though. Louis brings his index finger to trace lightly at the shaft and sucks in a breath in when it twitches violently at the feather light touch. If Louis fucks him he’s going to have to keep Harry on his hands and knees, knows that if his cock touches the mattress once Louis’ inside of him he’ll come without a reach around.

When his head clears of thoughts of being inside of Harry, Louis can hear Harry gagging around a mouthful of cock. He pulls his own hips back, sliding his cock out of Harry’s throat and tutting, “Good boys aren’t greedy, Harry, good boys suck cock quietly.”

“Can be quiet, I swear - fuck,” Harry closes his eyes when Louis crooks four fingers up against his spot. “Fuck - sorry, sir - _nnngh_ \- please, more.”

Harry leans back towards Louis’ crotch, gets his mouth on Louis’ thighs and licks his way back towards his cock. Louis pulls his hips away again before Harry can suck him back into his mouth, “Can you be quiet when I get my cock inside you though, princess?”

Louis nearly laughs at Harry’s reaction, his eyes widening in awe like he can’t image how lucky he is. Louis keeps his composure though, pulls back so he’s sitting up on the back of his heels looking down at Harry and says, “Bet you can, bet you can be so good for me, princess. I’d really like it if you could get on your hands and knees for me, love to see you keep your arse in the air for me.”

“Can, sir,” Harry says as he scrambles to get in position so fast that he must think Louis might change his mind in a millisecond. 

Louis’ cock is wet with Harry’s spit, heavy between his own legs while he fists some lube over it. He only fucks into his hand half a dozen times, too afraid that he’ll come on the back of Harry’s thighs for the second time today if he doesn’t stop.

Normally he would be afraid of how close he is, how fast he’s going to tumble over that ledge towards his orgasm. But he knows Harry can only take so much more, he’s been riled up for the whole evening, and no matter how good he wants to be, Harry can only fend off his own release for so long.

Louis scoots forward so that he’s kneeling behind Harry, the front of his own thighs pressed against the back of Harry’s. He doesn’t bother teasing him, doesn’t think either of them would be able to handle it if he were to slide his slippery cockhead along Harry’s crack. He simply places his left hand on the arch of Harry’s back, uses his right hand to pull Harry apart so that his cock can press in. 

“ _Lou, Lou, Lou,_ ” Harry chants while Louis buries himself inside Harry’s hole in one smooth, easy glide. Harry’s scrambling for purchase, trying to grip at the bare mattress. He can’t decide if he wants to arch his back and hold his head up or lean forward into the mattress on his arms. Louis wraps his right arm underneath Harry’s belly to support him, strong arms keeping him upright as Louis starts to pull out slightly before pushing back in.

Harry’s whining high in his throat now, broken noises coming to the surface each time Louis manages to hit Harry’s spot without coming himself. Louis’ fucking into him slowly, not gently, but gets in deep each time before pulling out nearly the whole way - reveling in the way that Harry’s hole clenches each time it starts to feel too empty.

Louis only starts to fuck into him faster when he realizes that Harry’s breathing is too regulated, that he needs to rile him up more. It only takes a few fast thrusts, Louis pistoning his hips forward relentlessly, for Harry’s moans to go soundless. “So quiet for me darling, taking it so well. Always so hot for me, so tight, can’t believe I get to love you, love you so much, princess.”

Harry’s face is smooshed into the mattress, head pushed to the right where his jaw is dropped and his moans are coming out breathless. He squeezes his eyes shut at Louis’ praises, lips moving like he’s trying to form words but the only thing coming out is a quiet panting. The only sound is Louis’ praising, the wet squelch of lube as Louis’ balls slap against Harry’s skin.

Louis switches the angle just slightly, knees shifting positions on the mattress. Harry can’t stop himself from squirming, whole body on edge as he slurs out, “G’nna come,”

“Not yet, princess, need you to be good for me,” Louis orders. “If you’re a good boy you’ll let me come first, won’t come until you’re all stuffed full of me and lovely.”

“Lovely,” Harry repeats back to him, voice slow and airy.

“That’s right, so lovely for me.” Louis was right about not lasting long, before he can even wrap his head around it he feels his orgasm hit him. He covers Harry’s back with his own body, pushing them both into the mattress when he buries himself deep in the tight heat of Harry as he comes inside of him, Harry’s thighs twitching beneath him as he tries to rut into the white sheet.

Louis tries to sort through the post orgasm haze that has his eyes cloudy and blissful, pulls out of Harry and shushes him when he starts whine loudly into the mattress again. “Gonna make you come, baby, okay? You’re gonna come so hard, been so lovely for me all night, such a good boy letting me come twice before you even get a turn.”

Harry rolls his head back against their sheet once he’s turned over, a broken sob pushing him to tears when Louis settles back between his thighs and stuff him full of four fingers and crooks them right against his spot. Louis gets his mouth against Harry’s thighs immediately, leans up to suck one of Harry’s balls into his mouth while he works him over with his fingers.

“ _Please_ , sir,” Harry says while he’s trying to muster up the energy to ride Louis’ fingers harder. “ _Please._ ”

And his voice sounds so pained, cock twitching hard against Harry’s sweaty torso. Louis doesn’t even think about it before he’s saying, “Come, princess,” in a syrupy sweet voice, right before he bites down hard on Harry’s inner thigh right above where he marked him.

“Thank you, thank you, fuck _ing hell_ , sir,” Harry slurs, balls tightening in Louis’ palm where he’s rolling them, right before his cock jumps on his belly and he finally _finally_ comes.

Louis may be panting harder than he is by the time Harry’s lower body stops spasming, hips stilling against the mattress and thigh muscles relaxing. He can hear Harry breathing heavily above him, still slurring out breathy little moans. Louis presses a few kisses to the bruises painting the inside of Harry’s thighs while he catches his own breath. 

He kisses his way down Harry’s body until he’s sitting up on the back of his heels, lifts Harry’s right foot in the air and kisses down his calf and around his ankle. “You with me, darling?” Louis asks, placing Harry’s right leg down on the mattress so that he can do the same with his left.

Harry makes a mumbled noise that sounds a lot like an affirmation, lazily brings his own hand down to his abdomen to spread his come around his belly. Louis grins as he leans forward over Harry’s body, bending over to press sloppy kisses to the V of Harry’s muscles where he’s still tight and tense from his orgasm. He blows a raspberry right below Harry’s belly button and, although Louis loves making him moan, Harry’s dopey laughter is still the best thing he’s heard all night.

“Can you tell me how you feel, love?” Louis says, pulling the towel from where it’s all bunched up beside Harry and wiping himself down shoddily. “Come back to me so I can take care of you, yeah?”

“‘M right here, Louuuu,” Harry sings sleepily, his voice floaty but not distant - his eyes locked on Louis’ when he adds with a pout, “Don’t have any kisses though.”

Louis crawls further up Harry’s body at his request. Holding himself up above Harry he leans forward slowly to place the gentlest of kisses on his lips, pulling back completely before leaning back in to give his boy a few more. Harry’s grinning up at him when Louis eventually pulls back for good, face split open in bliss as he says, “Thank you, _sir_.”

If Louis swats him on the arse for that, it wouldn’t be the first time. And it won’t be the last.

**Author's Note:**

> And that's it! I hope you enjoyed if you made this far. Comments and Kudos are always appreciated, as well as kind, constructive criticism :)
> 
> A special thanks to [Alice](http://intenselouis.tumblr.com/) for being brave enough to beta a PWP fic that a complete stranger sent her. Who knew what you were going to find when you opened that google.doc but I hope you enjoyed it and appreciate you taking the time to give it a read through.


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